This past weekend, ten UCSB students disappeared into the woods for an impromptu backpacking trip. Two days, twenty miles, forty-two river crossings, and one trail-blocking horse later, we returned to Isla Vista with countless stories that couldn’t encapsulate the magic that we experienced over the weekend.
Along with this came the “Where were you!?” exclamations, texts, and comments, a question that makes me perch onto my tiptoes to step around.
My eyes were still heavy when we left for the trail early Friday morning. In an effort to wake up, I kept trying to sip my scorching hot coffee despite burning my mouth seconds earlier. We had already divided all the gear, checked off the important safety items, and started driving out of the fog and clouds that enclosed Isla Vista. My stomach churned as raindrops fluttered onto the windshield, considering I promised the weather had forecasted absolutely zero rain.
When we finally broke through the ominous clouds, it felt as though we’d been transported to a new universe—one that was 15 degrees warmer with nothing but blue skies.
Now, despite the fact that this trip had been in the planning for two weeks, I characterize it as “impromptu” because we decided on the trail the night before while shopping for supplies at Costco. The unprecedented amount of rain and crazy storms in California over the past two years left many trails’ conditions up for question. Most AllTrails reviews looked inauspicious. Comments such as “washed-out,” “grown-out,” and “crazy ticks” left my two friends and I pondering if it was a good idea to lead seven other students out there for two days. However, after a lot more research, combing through reviews, and calls to Los Padres National Forest Service, we decided on a trail.
By 10 a.m. on Friday morning, with three PB&Js stuffed into our packs, we were off and moving. As we took off our shoes and trudged through the first river crossing less than two miles in, I reminded everyone to enjoy it.
This was the last water we’d see for 10 miles until we arrived at camp.
Photo: Sophia Glover
Nevertheless, the lack of water, beaming sun, snake in the trail, and ticks did not diminish the outstanding beauty we encountered hiking along a spectacular ridge-line. Each corner we turned presented views of the vast mountains covered in vibrant green grasses. Wildflowers blended together to form pink, white, and yellow patches that dotted the hillsides. During lunch, we marveled at the views while scarfing down our now smashed sandwiches. We had conquered 2,200 feet of elevation in five miles; only five more miles of downhill stood between us and jumping in a freezing river.
Everyone’s knees were throbbing when we reached the bottom of the valley. At the riverbank, most of us didn’t even change into our swimsuits. We threw our thirty-pound backpacks down and plunged in with our sweaty clothes to relish in the numbing water. We cooked dinner, laid out our sleeping bags and pads, dug out a fire pit in the designated area, and sat around the warm flames. Located just beside the river, the campsite was like a deserted oasis.
We hadn’t encountered a single other person all day, and there was only one other person on the opposite side of the large site. It truly was a hidden gem. As I zipped myself into my sleeping bag and stared at the twinkling stars, the best part about cowboy camping, I reflected on this.
Locating specific trails often requires deep research due to several factors. Firstly, not all trails are well-documented or easily accessible online. Some trails may only be known only to local communities or avid outdoor enthusiasts, requiring extensive research to uncover. The process of locating specific trails demands diligence, patience, and willingness to make informed decisions. Geotagging involves attaching geographical coordinates to digital content, such as photos, videos, or social media posts, to indicate where they were created. While geotagging serves as a convenient way to share experiences, it can also lead to unintended consequences for these trails. By exposing their locations, geotagging may increase foot traffic to fragile ecosystems, disrupt wildlife habitats, and compromise the safety and privacy of both the environment and individuals. Therefore, there's a delicate balance between the desire to share experiences through geotagging and the responsibility to preserve the integrity and tranquility of specific trails.
We had a slow start the next morning, a rarity in the backpacking world. After I watched
the sunrise from the comfort of my sleeping bag, I fell back asleep and waited for the fog to retreat from the valley. Once I started feeling too hot for comfort, I unzipped it, grabbed the JetBoil, filtered water from the river, and started boiling water for breakfast. Slowly, everyone began circling around and enjoying hot coffee and oatmeal for breakfast. Post-pack up, we cherished one last river dip before getting back on the trail with eight miles planned for the day. We anticipated a relatively easy day despite the mileage since there was very limited elevation gain.
Forty river crossings, however, were not anticipated.
With wet shoes and socks, we hiked all day alongside the river constantly crossing back and forth. As the temperature increased, we began looking forward to the relief of cool water rushing around our legs. Most crossings occurred in slow-moving, shallow water, with the deepest being thigh-deep requiring sticks for support. Our second camp was less than two miles from the trailhead, but we wanted to enjoy the simplicity and connections that come along with camping another night. Somehow, we made it with no wet backpacks and in great time despite a horse-block in the middle of the trail.
We enjoyed another afternoon swim, incredible dinner, funny card game, and story-telling session around the fire. By 10 p.m., everyone was ready for some serious shut-eye. We encountered fewer than ten people on the way back; another day in almost complete solidarity. Without service, the only conversations we had were with the people right in front of us. We were completely off the grid.
Disconnecting from the distractions of modern life encourages mindfulness and introspection, providing moments of solitude for self-reflection and rejuvenation. The beauty of being off the grid while camping lies in the opportunity to rediscover simplicity and forge genuine connections. Just as important as it is to be off the grid in terms of technology while camping, it is equally crucial to exercise discretion when revealing specific locations. As I mentioned before, sharing exact coordinates and geotagging can lead to overexposure, environmental degradation, and compromised safety and privacy in natural areas.
While I recognize that I don't possess a significant platform, I want to emphasize that my intention is not to gatekeep trails or locations. Instead, I aim to promote responsible outdoor exploration and conservation ethics. I do often share regional locations such as National Parks and Forests, but I try to avoid listing specific trails or campsites publicly. Not only is this to protect a spot, but its also to ensure that hikers don't try to explore somewhere where they are ill-prepared. For example, without my research, I wouldn't have insisted everyone wear pants the first day and many people might've left with tick bites.
Anyone can access information about specific trails by conducting searches on the spot, its ecosystem, and the responsibilities associated with venturing there just as I did. For reference, I find most of my information on AllTrails and National Forests’ websites. Through this, you’ll become informed on restricting and regulations such as adhering to Leave No Trace principles and respecting fire bans.
Once again, I want to emphasize that I am not attempting to gatekeep the places I travel to, as I firmly believe that the outdoors should be accessible to everyone, and individuals should feel encouraged to explore and discover new locations. Instead, I hope my backpacking trip and this post serve as inspiration for your own adventures, reminding you to leave no trace and keep it wild.
